Rain
by xRuthiex
Summary: Marauders story told in the perspective of Stella Ashby, an OC. Stella has a crush on Remus Lupin but he never notices her so she washes away her troubles in the rain. However relationships start to change in her sixth year and life storms out of control.
1. The Sweetest Misery

A faint drumming echoes on the windows and I breathe a sigh of relief. I discard my book and hurry towards the nearest window, surveying the scenery hastily. The dark clouds and deep thunder can only mean one thing.

It's raining.

I have always loved the rain, ever since I was a child. My mother would take me to the park everyday, regardless of the weather. If it was particularly wet outside, I would be zipped into a large waterproof suit, with matching wellington boots and a bobble hat. My mother would watch me happily as I splashed in the puddles and caught raindrops on my tongue. The rainy days seemed to be more fun than the sunny days; the park was always deserted so I had the entire place to myself, my own private wonderland.

The entire of the Hogwarts ground is near deserted as I race down the stone steps and onto the grass. Out of the corner of my eye, I see several third year girls racing towards the castle and shrieking loudly. I ignore them, running in the opposite direction, my feet carrying me further away from the school. The rain pours, ominous clouds masking the sun and dimming the landscape. Drops of water surround me, scalding my flesh and reviving my skin. My breathing becomes more irregular as my heartbeat thunders almost as loud as the sounds above me.

As I grew older, the trips to the park became less and less frequent, but my love of the rain stayed. I didn't splash in the puddles any more, but I never avoided the rain or bought an umbrella. I embraced the weather, but I began to understand why people hate it so much.

Rain is miserable.

The dank clouds cast foreboding shadows, darkening the world. Thunder crashes whilst lightning destroys and kills. High speed winds tear down trees, ripping them at their foundations and shaking the trembling world. Cold water, that is all rain is, drops of cold water that soak and drown. Rain is misery, and yet it is beautiful.

I gradually grow to a stop, my legs ceasing to move any further. I stand, lifting my head to the heavens so the water bathes my face. The rain trickles down my cheeks and clings to my chin like teardrops, my wild hair billowing in the breeze. My fingertips hang loosely at my sides, red and raw. I don't care that my body shivers weakly or that my heart stutters feebly. I just stand in the rain, allowing time to slip through my fingers, hoping that the storm will never end.

I understand why I love the rain so much. I wonder if he loves the rain too. There is something so tortured and melancholic about him, he tries to hide it but I know the sadness is there, waiting in the background. My misery lingers until the rain comes, letting my sorrow free in the downpours. Rain is desolate, but so is this feeling. I love rain because it is what I am, it is what I have become, a self destructive storm that wrecks and ruins. I am a selfish, lonely fool that can't admit her feelings, not even to her best friend. I can hardly admit them to myself.

Gradually, my lips stretch into a wide crescent, baring my pearly teeth. Somehow, I still manage to smile in the rain. Even though it pours and rages, I still grin inanely. I guess it is because I still know that the rain is beautiful. To those who are happy it may be miserable but to those who are unhappy, rain can be a wonderful thing. Sunlight scorches and burns, snow and ice freeze but rain can soothe, cleanse, eradicate and wash away.

I lift my arms to the heavens and outstretch my fingers, my palms catching each tiny droplet. I spin and laugh as I dance in the rain, I should be crying but I just can't let it show. My mirth echoes throughout the grounds and yet no one hears me. The hammering of the water drums against the floor perpetually and the lightning illuminates the clouds.

After all, this is misery. But it is the sweetest kind of misery.


	2. The Doe and the Slug

"Stella! What on earth have you done?" Lily snaps as I waddle into the common room. My hair clings determinedly to my cheeks and my sopping robe encapsulates me, I probably resemble a very large slug. I am absolutely freezing but I don't care. The rain makes the dripping clothes and icicle fingers all worthwhile.

"I went outside," I choke through my chattering teeth. Lily flicks her emerald eyes to the ceiling and thrusts her own robe over my shoulders. Clearly she's forgotten the drying charm Snivellus taught her in the third year. I know she is silently cursing me under her breath, but frankly I couldn't care less because Lily Evans is possibly the loveliest person to ever grace this earth.

Lily is one of the very few people that I can stand for more than ten minutes at a time. She's sensible but sensitive and you can get a decent conversation with her, unlike many of the other gibbering giggly girls in our year. If it weren't for Lily, I might have become a hermit. A grumpy slug woman, lurking in the darkness and waiting for the rain to come, only venturing into the world when others shelter. It actually worries me how many traits I share with slugs.

"You're a complete idiot, I hope you realise that," Lily grumbles. I nod quickly and Lily stifles a smile, her stern expression ruined by the glint in her green eyes. I toddle over to the nearest sofa and slump on the cushions, draping my slug like form over the pristine velvet. Lily quirks an eyebrow and perches on the arm of the sofa, waving her wand into a whirlwind. I shouldn't have doubted her memory, that girl has one of the biggest brains in Britain.

Lily eventually finishes drying me off, her smile growing until it swamps the whole of her face. She gnaws on her lips, but the hysteria can't be contained and she eventually collapses in a fit of laughter.

"Lily, what have you done?" I question warily, just as four boys enter the common room. My stomach does several somersaults and I feel my pulse dramatically increase.

"Nice hair Stella," James sniggers and I warily glance at Lily, who is attempting to cull her giggles. Clearly I am the victim of Lily's strange brand of revenge.

Lily has always had odd ways of getting back at people. In the second year, James 'accidentally' locked himself and Lily in a closet for over an hour. Flitwick found them, Lily somewhat ruffled but undamaged and James utterly thrilled. Lily spread the rumour that James only had three toes as vengeance. Last month, Peter copied the entire of her potions essay, so Lily took off all the buttons on his shirts. How she managed to get the shirts, I have no idea, but one thing is for sure, Lily Evans is a master of vendetta.

"Lily, what have I done to deserve this?" I question, pointing to the ominous mass of curls on my head. My hair looks like a haystack. Lily, now having managed to quiet her laughter, ruffles my unruly locks playfully and grins.

"Next time, think twice before venturing into a storm without an umbrella." I sigh and pout, Lily flashing a quick grin at me before springing up the stairs. What is that girl up to? Lily may be my best friend, but she is also incredibly puzzling. I cross my legs and lean over, reaching for a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet. My hand brushes against another and my heart bursts into palpitations.

"I'm sorry," Remus Lupin mutters, instinctively swiping his hand away. My eyes search for something to look at that doesn't make me feel awkward, and they eventually settle on his ankles. I focus there happily for about three minutes before I realise that he has undoubtedly gorgeous ankles.

I first realised I have a crush on Remus Lupin when I was in first year. Being an incredibly clumsy soul, I accidentally managed to knock my cauldron over all his books, disintegrating them. I got two weeks detention but it was worth it just to get him to talk to me. As I got to know him more, the crush grew and grew and now it's transformed into a scary monster that lurks at the pit of my stomach, rearing its ugly head whenever Remus appears. It's pretty easy to control, I don't think anyone knows about my feelings and I have little hope for our relationship developing any further. I'm pretty certain that he only thinks of me as a friend. I hide my loneliness because I must, although sometimes it really hurts.

"Stella?" My head snaps upright and I discover that Remus has been repeatedly asking me a question. I can't help but blush at his earnest hazel eyes watching carefully and his quietly curios expression.

"How was your day?" He asks politely. I can tell from his tone of voice, that he is genuinely interested. It is one of the many things I have noticed from my crush fuelled staring sessions that occur every Wednesday in DADA. Remus doesn't say that much, but when he does talk, he genuinely means what he says. He isn't bravado fuelled or arrogant like his friends; he's reflective, gentle and complacent.

"Oh, fine thanks. How was yours?" I mumble, trying not to embarrass myself further.

"Much better since I saw your new hair." He chuckles, his eyes glimmering playfully. It is at this point, that Lily reappears from the dormitory, brandishing a hairbrush like a particularly wayward banshee. She barges past a herd of fourth years, halting at the sofa and beginning the battle with my hair.

"I'm sorry Stella," Lily states, gradually taming the mass of frizz.

"Don't worry about it, I don't mind as long as it's not permanent." I say, throwing a smile in Remus's direction.

"That's a shame, I quite like the windswept look," Remus light-heartedly mutters. Why did Lily choose now to try and gain penance? Or is he joking? That's one of the other things that I've noticed from my crush fuelled staring sessions. It's difficult to tell when he's joking and when he's serious. Lily clearly has trouble differentiating between the two.

"Really?" She questions, surprised, "I think she looks like a Poodle." My best friend is so complimentary.

"Yeah," he muses, surveying my tendrils for a moment before replying. "It's quite wild. I like it." Note to self, don't brush hair.

"Oi, Moony! Come and help with my potions!" Sirius barks across the room. Why must he steal my dearest Remus? Perhaps Lily can leave my wild hair alone and go and help Sirius, she excels at potions. Remus clambers off the sofa, his mousey fringe momentarily flopping into his eyes. I stifle a gasp, butterflies storming in the pit of my stomach. He casually smiles before ambling towards the table where James, Sirius and Peter are all sitting. The doe and the slug are left, Lily blissfully unaware of my shortness of breath and frantic pulse.

It's not raining, but there is thunder in my heart.


	3. Stolen Marmalade

"Stella, what are you doing?" Oh no, she's noticed. I quickly discard the hairspray and smile the most innocent smile I can possibly muster.

"Nothing," I reply angelically. Lily quirks an eyebrow and I continue to grin inanely until she eventually relaxes her expression. I should be an actress; of course I was doing something. I'm not one of those girls who are prone to coating her locks in countless products; I'm no Narcissa Black. I was trying to re-create the windswept, wild look. I sigh and take a fleeting glance in the mirror, before rushing down to the Great Hall, Lily in close pursuit.

The Great Hall is full of life, as usual. The air rings with vibrant chatter and ghastly shade of pale aqua tarnishes the enchanted ceiling; it's going to be sunny. I silently curse the unpredictable weather of April, stumbling over Narcissa's books as I walk past the Slytherin table. She looks down her nose at me like I am some little slug that she has scraped off her unusually pointed shoe. Lucius chuckles haughtily, so I throw a glower in his direction. One of the few bonuses of being slug woman, my looks can be vile. Lucius squirms uncomfortably, before flicking his eyes back to his breakfast and ogling at it intently.

I arrive at the Gryffindor table only to discover that James is ogling nervously at someone else.

"I thought she didn't like him anymore?" James enquires anxiously as I squeeze in between him and Sirius. He is watching as Snivellus mumbles something to Lily at the other side of the hall. Clearly she isn't happy, her nose is so scrunched up it looks like a withered prune. Honestly, boys. They really should learn more about body language. It feels like I have to explain everything to them sometimes. I roll my eyes, stealing a slice of toast off Sirius's plate as I explain.

"She doesn't. But it doesn't stop him from being obsessively in love with her, does it." James frowns slightly; Sirius is too busy groping his cereal to care. I nod, swiping the marmalade jar from Peter, who is just about to stick his podgy little fingers into it. Sometimes I feel more like a babysitter than a friend.

"Really?" James questions; staring at the couple with a doubtful expression. I nod again, slathering my stolen toast with some stolen marmalade. Of course Snivellus is madly in love with her; if I had a sickle for every time he gazes at her longingly I'd be the richest witch in England.

"Nope, he's just desperate 'cos he hasn't got any friends," Sirius garbles through a mouthful of cornflakes. How charming. I honestly can't see the qualities that other girls seem to see in Sirius. James turns away from the conflicting pair for a moment, flashing a grin at Sirius before turning back to watch them again.

"Yeah... I think you're right. Cheers Padfoot." Gosh that's nice. Ask for my advice and then spit it back in my face like yesterday's marmalade. I'm rather suspicious that Peter's clammy paws got to the marmalade before I could rescue it, it tastes odd. There is a short silence and I take the opportunity to question why there are only three Marauders sitting at the table.

"Where is Remus?" I try to ask as casually as possible.

"Hospital Wing," blurts Sirius and before I can ask any further, James continues.

"He's got the flu. You should visit him; he'd probably like to see someone a little more curvaceous than Peter." I elbow James in the ribs, concealing his laughter with squeak of pain. I immediately feel guilty, James isn't that bad. He's certainly isn't a complete toe-rag, like Lily suggests. I take another bite into my toast; there is something definitely strange about the marmalade. Sirius notices my confused expression and asks with a grin.

"Did you just eat some of that marmalade?" I nod slowly, James and Sirius immediately bursting into hysterics. Between chortles, Sirius manages to choke out some words, his handsome face stained with tears of joy.

"Peter licks the entire jar before he eats it. Why else would no one be eating marmalade?!"


	4. A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love

I amble outside the Hospital Wing anxiously, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to allow me to visit Remus. I nearly admitted myself actually, that marmalade is probably eating its way through my digestive system. However there are more pressing matters than toxic preserve running through my mind. How is he? Does he want to see me or was James just making conversation? Will it be incredibly awkward? Remus and I haven't exactly spent much time on our own before. Our chats are usually interrupted by Lily or one of the Marauders. A little nagging voice in the back of my mind whispers that he'll be able to tell that I'm hopelessly infatuated by him, but I manage to drum it out by humming the tune of Celestina Warbeck's new song. 'A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love' is an unusually catchy tune and by the time I am finally allowed to see Remus, half the school must be singing along to the melody. A very tiny first year in the bed next to Remus whistles the tune in a high pitched tone.

"I hate that song. It's like listening to a group of banshees," he complains as I perch on the end of his bed. To be fair, he is right. Celestina Warbeck is accompanied by a group of banshees. How do I know this? I might have a large collection of her albums. I won't tell Remus that.

"How are you?" I ask, quickly changing the subject.

"I've been better. Stomach viruses are never pleasant," he states jokily. That's odd, I'm sure James said he has the flu...

"How are you?" he questions, before I can enquire about his odd flu-stomach-virus thing. Suddenly, I remember my excuse for visiting, in case he thinks it is very weird of me coming on my own.

"Good, thank you. I thought I'd bring you these. They are the notes you missed from DADA," sadly I couldn't have my crush fuelled staring session today, so I had to pay attention instead. I thrust eight rolls of thick parchment into his hand and he rifles through them, an appreciative smile creeping across his weary face.

"Stella, you didn't need to do all of this! How much have you written?" I sigh and glance at my claw like fingers; I swear I have unbelievably weak wrists. Eight pages of writing has practically killed my hand, perhaps I should write more often and get a bit of practice, I don't tend to do much work in lessons. Remus's smile seems unreal and drained. He is unhappy; there is no doubt about it. He's trying to hide it though, and my stomach ties itself in knots as I momentarily think what could be so terrible. Everyone may be sad when they are ill, but this is something more, something that has always been with him, ever since I met him. Perhaps he is just a melancholic soul.

"Professor Doonesbury was in a particularly inspired mood today," I mumble sheepishly, hoping he hasn't noticed the pages of extra notes I wrote for his other lessons too. He glances up at me, his mousey hair momentarily flopping into his hazel eyes. I manage not to swoon by distracting myself with the sneeze attack the first year is having in the bed next door.

"This is so sweet of you..." and there is a pause, "you're really sweet." He says the second phrase so quietly that I wonder if he actually said it or if it's my overactive imagination playing up again. Recently, after reading an article in the Quibbler about nargles, I managed to convince myself that one was lurking in the dormitory stealing all my socks. I later discovered it was a mutinous house-elf making a bizarre bid for freedom.

"Miss Ashby, visiting time is over!" Madam Pomfrey's shrill voice thunders in my thoughts and drags me back to reality. I haul myself off the bed, pausing momentarily to say goodbye to Remus. He smiles warmly, his hands lingering over the rolls of parchment littered across his bed. However there is a pang of grief lurking in his irises.

"Thank you Stella." I try to cull the bubbling sense of hope that erupts in the pit of my stomach. Something about the glimmer in his eyes tells me that it wasn't my overactive imagination playing up for once. Did he actually tell me I was sweet? Perhaps there could be something more than friendship between Remus and me. I have a new found spring in my step as I waltz out of the Hospital Wing. Nothing can get me down today, not the sun shining blindingly through the windows or the dangerous marmalade that I consumer earlier or a foul tempered Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius clearly isn't having the best of days today. He storms down the corridor, his robe billowing out behind him and tempests in his steely eyes. Students dive out of the way as he storms past them, danger evident from the crude snarl on his cold features. Who is the one student who manages to get in the way of his hurricane path? Me.

I am dreaming of Remus, myself, a long white dress and a fleet of bridesmaids when it happens. Out of nowhere, Lucius crashes into me. The force of impact nearly knocks me to the floor, yet I manage to steady myself. I wince, preparing for whatever curse will invade my body. Perhaps he could perform the slug-vomiting curse; then I could throw up slugs as well as be one. However, no curse comes. Instead I receive a verbal battering.

"You pathetic, filthy little mudblood," he spits spitefully. I know what he wants. He wants my face to crumple and tears to well up in my eyes, defeated and hurt. Unfortunately for him, I am in an unusually good mood today, so I don't sob, in fact I do the complete opposite.

"Have a nice day Lucius," I chirp, beaming at him brightly. Then I quickly glide past him and along the corridor before he can register what I have said. That should really get him hot under the collar. One of the number one things that can irritate a pureblood Slytherin is a muggleborn Gryffindor being abnormally friendly to them, especially after being insulted. I know that he is watching me stroll down the corridor; I can feel his eyes burning into the back of my neck.

But nothing can get me down today, so I carry on walking, humming 'A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love' as loud as I can.


	5. Cinnamon Shampoo

Oh dear. I am really regretting being overly pleasant to Lucius now. Lily has dragged me down to the dungeons and has abandoned me to go and visit her dearest Slughorn. I don't know why she likes him; he is unbelievably vain and has serious body odour issues. I can't stand more than five minutes with him, one of the many reasons why I refused to join the prestigious Slug Club. Besides, I'm sluggish enough as it is.

Lucius Malfoy is lurking at the other end of the corridor, a wicked smile stretched across his pallid face. Perhaps he has been waiting for revenge, like Lily. I doubt his brand of revenge is as gentle and strange as Lily's. I may actually end up with three toes. Or even worse, three toes could be all that is left of me after Lucius's vendetta.

When you were a child, did you ever believe that if you couldn't see someone, then they couldn't see you either? Part of me still believes that now; if I close my eyes tightly, hold my breath and pretend that I'm invisible, then perhaps he won't notice me. For a moment I think that it just might have worked.

"Hello mudblood," apparently not. I slowly open one eye to find Lucius facing me, he is trying to be stern but amusement is clearly creeping into his expression.

"Oh hello Lucius, I didn't see you there," my voice is falsely sunny. I'm putting on a very good act, I feel like a very tiny elephant confronted by an abnormally large and dangerous mouse. His eyebrow twitches; he doesn't like me being cheery. I should be anxious and panicky. I am anxious and panicky; I'm just pretending that I'm not.

"What are you doing down here? Stinking up our corridors with your filthy mudblood ways." Bless him; he's really trying to insult me. I've actually managed to unnerve him. He may seem calm and controlled on the surface, but I have infiltrated the icy facade and might have caused some damage to the narrow-minded, proud Slytherin king. This is a triumph for all Gryffindors everywhere; I should be awarded a medal.

"I'm just waiting for my friend. My hair smells quite strongly of cinnamon at the moment actually." It's true; I've been borrowing Lily's fancy shampoo. Snivellus is particularly partial to the scent, I once heard him muttering about it under his breath. It was pretty creepy. Lucius blinks pointedly, utterly astounded. There is a short silence before he mutters coolly.

"Why can't I insult you?" The sentence is an acceptance of defeat. I can't help but smile at him, his ego certainly needs a good bashing. However, I also feel slightly guilty, explaining the truth behind my optimism.

"Because I know that's how you want me to feel," I reply casually. Realisation dawns on his face and moments later a wry smile emerges from the confusion.

"What's your name again?" How dare him! I know his name, he should know mine.

"Stella Ashby."

"Well Stella, I hope you've had a lovely day," his voice oozes suave charm and I roll my eyes.

"Ouch." I mutter sarcastically. He chuckles quietly and I playfully tap him on the arm. Hang on, is Lucius flirting with me? This can't be good. I search my brain for an excuse to leave, quickly.

"I've got to finish some Divination work," I mumble, darting out of the corridor as quickly as my legs will carry me. I hear Lucius's voice echo from the dungeons as I reach the top of the steps.

"You're right, you do smell of cinnamon." I hurry into the sunlight, cursing Lily and her snazzy cinnamon shampoo.


	6. Infectious Sorrow

_**Johanna Black**_** and **_**smiley011095**_**thank you**** both ****so much**** for reading this- I ****really**** appreciate your comments!**

**Also, I forgot to put a disclaimer at the beginning of this story... so I'll put it here.**

**I don't own Harry Potter or write it; it's all thanks to the lovely J.K Rowling.**

**Now, onwards with the story...**

Lily is giving me the cold shoulder; I personally think she's in too much of a tired and unimaginative mood to punish me quirkily. Mind you, I'd be in an unimaginative mood if I had to sit through double history of magic, I'm so glad I dropped that lesson. Professor Binns is about as thrilling as wet paint.

I sigh and drum my fingers on the desk, utterly bored out of my mind. I've come to the library as penance for abandoning Lily in the dungeons, although she's still slightly miffed. Apparently she had a brief but unpleasant encounter with Snivellus once I had gone, I was supposed to be there to stop him from getting too close to her cinnamon locks. Lily doesn't actually realise, bless her, that Snivellus is utterly infatuated with her, she just wants to spare his already crushed feelings. She keeps rejecting his apologies, and not always in the politest manner. I personally think it's a little odd that no one has noticed his longing for her; perhaps I notice it because I'm trying to look out for my best friend.

"Stella, what did Lucius Malfoy want with you?" Lily whispers quietly. I immediately realise that Lily hasn't been blanking me for leaving her in the dungeon, she has been blanking me for chatting to the Slytherin King. A little hypocritical in my opinion, she spends five years befriending a Slytherin and arguing that the houses shouldn't be rivals, and as soon as they fall out I'm not allowed to so much as speak to someone from that house either. Lucius Malfoy is a nasty piece of work, but that doesn't mean I should completely ignore him.

"He was just wondering what I was doing in the corridor, that's all," I dodge the details of terrible insults and embarrassing flirting, clutching to the scraps of truth that don't sound utterly terrible. Lily quirks an eyebrow disapprovingly, pointedly glowering into her potions book as she diverges.

"That wasn't what it sounded like." Does she have sonic hearing? I'm sure we were talking quietly. Or perhaps she and Slughorn were lurking at the keyhole trying to listen to every word. It wouldn't surprise me if Slughorn was eavesdropping; he's always struck me as a bit of a nosy gossip.

"We may have chatted about other stuff too..." I mumble sheepishly. Remus came out of the Hospital Wing today; I'd much prefer to be having a nice conversation with him as opposed to an interrogation from Lily. Lily shuts her potions book with a slam, glaring up at me. Oh dear, I have sparked her temper. Lily may be lovely and sweet, but heaven have mercy on anyone who crosses her. As well as odd acts of revenge, she can scream like banshee and fight like a savage troll.

"I can't believe you! Lucius Malfoy? What are you thinking Stella? He's practically joined You-Know-Who already!" She hisses, wary that the shrewd librarian is watching us moodily. She is right in some ways, us noble Gryffindors should frown upon such deeds. Lily and I have always stood together in that respect; we're both muggleborn so we get the worst from the Slytherin's usually. I sigh and mumble some words I never thought I'd ever say.

"But what if we can change them Lily?" I manage to hit a nerve, her face crumpling. I hate it when Lily cries; she becomes even more child-like and infects everyone within a fifty mile radius with unquestionable guilt. Even the shrewd librarian looks mildly perturbed as Lily's sobs echo throughout the dingy bookshelves. Through the streaming tears and quivering lip, Lily whines.

"But that's what I tried to do with Severus..." I wrap my arm around Lily, gently rocking her like a mother with her child. I may be a completely unreliable and a moody oaf, but when my friends need me I will be there, and right now Lily needs me more than ever. Lily is a facade of strength and confidence, but underneath that I know she's a fragile little girl that just needs a hug. She's a whirlwind of emotions and I'm the rock that she clings to for support. It's a blessing and a curse being grumpy slug woman. The beautiful doe is adored by some, but crushed by others. No one wants to go anywhere near the slug, which means no one can properly hurt her, but no one loves her either.

Lily's sorrow is beginning to rub off on me. I really need it to rain again.


	7. Drowning

It doesn't rain, so instead I diverge into the next best tactic for curing bad feelings; pumpkin pasties. The common room is filled with sweet wrappers and left over bits of pastry. A second year has to wade through the sea of silver, my rubbish spilling off the chair and disturbing the floor around me. I've eaten so many pastries that I've lost count; it's lucky that I never seem to gain weight regardless of what I eat. I cram a handful of Bertie Botts beans into my mouth and immediately regret it. Vomit, earwax and porridge aren't the nicest flavours on their own, but together it feels like something has died in my mouth. It's even worse than the marmalade that Peter fondled. I hear a gentle chuckle from behind me and my heart skips a beat.

"Stella, how many pumpkin pasties have you eaten?" Remus asks, a curious smile playing on his lips. I feel my cheeks tinge scarlet, shrugging my shoulders and wishing even more that I hadn't eaten the Bertie Botts beans, my facial expression from eating porridgey-earwaxy-vomit is far from charming or attractive. He grins, and with one fluid movement, he climbs over the back of the sofa landing next to me and narrowly missing my stash of food. If I weren't madly in love with him, I'd tell him to watch where he is going.

"Do you want one?" I ask, between mouthfuls of pasty. Remus nods, taking a pasty and throwing it between each hand. Seriously, I could be eating that. If I weren't madly in love with him, I'd tell him to stop wasting food.

"I actually just wanted to thank you, for all those notes. That was so kind of you." He mutters gently, crossing his legs in a similar manner to mine, so we are facing each other, like two little children. I shrug my shoulders, trying and failing to be nonchalant, whilst desperately hoping that he can't see my blushes.

"It honestly doesn't matter," I reply, throwing a bean into my mouth. Thank goodness its strawberry flavour. I don't know what I'd look like if it was tomato. Remus's crooked grin fades slightly, and a pang of sadness glistens in his eyes. I frenziedly fight the urge to wrap my arms around him and dissolve the sorrow with kisses.

"Are you alright Stella?" He questions my inquisitive expression and I relax, smiling and nodding. He actually looks far from comfortable, slightly nervous. He drums his fingers repetitively on the pumpkin pasty that he still hasn't eaten, and he leans closer to me, his voice hushed.

"I was actually wondering if you could give me some advice, James says you're really good with that sort of stuff... perceptive." Bless him, and bless James. They are sweethearts, the two of them. I love being a shoulder to lean on or an agony aunt, and it's always nice to hear that my advice is useful. Besides, I'd be happy to tell Remus what type of engagement ring or what I'd like to name our four children. My imagination gets embarrassingly carried away sometimes.

"Sure, what's bothering you? Bertie Bean?" I ask, offering the packet. He takes one, popping it casually into his mouth before diverging.

"You're a girl, right." I hope its toenail flavoured.

"You're observant," I mumble, trying not to sound too annoyed.

"Well there's this girl that I really like, and I was wondering if you could suggest the best way to ask her out. I'm not particularly experienced in... That sort of thing..." his voice trails, and my heart sinks.

A horrible sharp pain thunders in the pit of my stomach, the same sort of feeling that I got when I was a child and I first realised that fairytales aren't real. Disenchantment. Except this is worse, because I still love him, I still long for him, but I know now that is no way we will ever be together. I always knew that he only thought of me as a friend, I had just been deluding myself into believing that perhaps there was a chance for us to be together. A small, nagging voice at the back of my mind had always told me that this day would come, but I chose to ignore it. Now my hopes are crushed and there is nothing left but foolish desire and shattered dreams.

"I'll just have a think about it, let me get back to you," I whisper so my voice won't crack, pulling on the biggest false smile I can muster. Remus grins cheerfully, nodding and stating gratitude. I dive off the sofa and scrabble up the stairs, ignoring all those who smile and wave at me as they pass.

I finally find my way towards the girls' bathroom, the cold white porcelain dull in the half-light. I stagger my way across the room, clambering into the shower fully clothed and switching on the taps. I can't create rain; this is the closest I can get without the weather being in my favour. The water thunders in my ears and cascades down my face, replacing the tears that should be there. I can't cry but I can't stop the terrible feeling of grief. The horrible emotions won't wash away, no matter how hard I try to forget or how fiercely the water plummets. Droplets collect on my eyelashes and in my hair, whilst I clamp my hands over my ears, trying to block out the laughter echoing from the nearby dormitory.

I can't wash away my sorrows, so instead I drown in them.


	8. Distant Voices

**To everyone who has read this- I really appreciate all your comments! Thank you! Now, on with the story...**

"I think she's dead."

"Probably."

"I'll just check." Distant voices are disturbing my sleep, their deep tones shuddering in my dreams like storms. Suddenly, a short, sharp jab in the side jolts me from my immobilised state. I blink heavily as the world blurs into view. Indistinguishable figures are leaning over me; one of them is clutching a long, pointed object. A wand ? I blink again, letting out a long yawn and rubbing my eyes.

"Ouch," I grumble, and I hear the low voices chuckling, so I open my eyes. The world is slightlyclearer; Sirius and James are leaning over me, watching me like a strange potion that has mysteriously malfunctioned. I see Sirius's wand gradually move closer towards me, and I seize it before he can prod me again. I may be sleepy, but my reflexes certainly haven't been affected much.

"She's nicked my wand!" Sirius sounds simply appalled, serves him right. I was having a particularly nice dream about a little slug who managed to slither its way into an extremely large pumpkin patch. James laughs again, muttering something about Sirius not ever getting it back, I'm really too tired to listen. At that moment, a thought occurs to me and still clutching Sirius's wand, I question them.

"What are you doing in my dormitory?" I ask groggily, and I receive an answer of more chortles. I wait till the hysterical hyenas finish their laughing fit, yawning deeply and rubbing my eyes once more. Finally, James answers my question.

"Stella, you're not in the dormitories, you're in the Great Hall! Its breakfast and Peter saved you some marmalade," James jeers, and I sit up quickly, the blood rushing to my head in an instant. If I ever see that marmalade again, I will hurl. They are right though, I am in the Great Hall; students are eating and bustling around in the usual manner. Completely confused, I turn to Sirius who is trying to swipe back his wand without me noticing.

"How did I get here?"I ask him. I can't remember anything after going into the shower. I'd assumed that Lily had peeled me off the bathroom floor and taken me to the dormitory like she usually does when I've had a bad day, but surely I'd remember waking up and going down to the Great Hall? I place one hand on my head, the other still gripping Sirius's wand tightly. A wave of wooziness rattles my brain and a pounding erupts in my eardrums, causing my head to throb.

"Urgh," is all I can muster, closing my eyes to block out the harsh sunlight radiating through the enchanted ceiling. At once, all the voices fade, like a frantic blur in the background. My senses seem to disappear too, like a cold numbness has overcome my body. Only one voice stands out in the anxious haze of noise. It's Remus.

"Is Stella alright?" His voice echoes across my mind, the soft sound shaking back memories of the night before. I spent several hours just standing in the shower. When I came into the dormitory, everyone else was asleep. I couldn't sleep, so I sat on my bed, pondering over what I should say to Remus. Eventually, Lily woke up, and together we went down to the Great Hall.

"Stella?" I hear Remus's voice again and this time it seems more worried. Why should he be concerned about me? I've just got a headache, and besides he doesn't care about me. Not in the way I'd like him to feel about me. It's strange, I want him to suffer and ache like I do, yet he hasn't done anything wrong. He's just fallen in love with a girl who isn't me.

"Stella? No, let me-" but his voice is cut short. A long arm slithers around my waist, another supporting my head. I know I am being lifted somehow, but everything feels so far away, like a dream. Another voice becomes sharper and clearer, although I don't recognise it. It has a cold, lilting ring, and I know that I've heard the sound before.

"Professor, I've got her. I'll take her." The icy voice has an air of superiority and authority, the sound puts me on edge and I long to hear the soothing tones of Remus's softer voice. I crave for him to be near, even though it hurts, like a strange self-destructive addiction. I hear Remus's voice once more, but it is further away and less clear, disappearing into the distance.

"Will she be alright? Will she be ok? What do you think is wrong with her?" The questions continue, his voice growing more frantic but quieter, until there is only one sound left. Breathing.

"What's happening?" I finally manage to muster some words; the sounds that come from my mouth are unusually weak and croaky. The icy voice replies to me, it is trying to be gentle but the sharp edge never leaves the voice, an incomprehensible warning.

"I've got you." At once, I realise who has been speaking to me and carrying me, shock pulsing through my veins. I black out.


	9. Spiralling Out of Control

Groggily, I writhe in my sheets, disrupting the pallid blankets. I am cocooned, my duvet wrapped securely around my body, protected from the outside world. I wriggle uncertainly, clambering out of my blanket cave. I jolt upright, the sunlight scalding my eyes and making me squint. Blinking heavily, my eyes desperately adjust to the bright surroundings. Eventually, the room fades into view. I am in the Hospital Wing, aisles of empty beds deck the room and Madam Pomfrey scuttles around, re-adjusting sheets carefully. Noticing my sudden awakening, she hurries to my bedside, placing a cold hand on my forehead and smiling gently.

"Had a nice sleep dear? You really needed it; you passed out at breakfast this morning." She states and I gawp, the memories flooding back in an instant. How embarrassing, did everyone see me faint? Even worse, what did everyone think of the person carrying me out? Lily is going to murder me, once I've fully recovered from whatever I have anyway.

"I can't seem to find anything wrong with you; you're just overtired and a little bit chilled. I thought it would be best that you stayed in here for the day though, resting." Madam Pomfrey continues. Great, now I won't be able to avoid Lily and her perpetual rage with the 'ill' excuse. I sigh and rub my eyes, they feel tired and sore.

"You've had a few visitors, some have been very persistent. There's one waiting outside. I tried to get him to leave but he said it was important, should I let him in?" She asks tentatively, her lips tightly pursed in a thin line. I nod, grateful to whoever it is for distracting me from eternal boredom. I'd even be vaguely pleased to see Narcissia Black. There is only so much time a person can spend in a hospital bed without anything to do, I can only last for about two minuets. Madam Pomfrey dashes out, only to reappear moments later. She marches in a tall boy with mousey brown hair and glittering hazel eyes. He is going to make me ill, and I will have to be confined in my duvet for the rest of my life; I'm lovesick, no matter how cliché that sounds.

"Are you feeling better?" Remus asks, striding across the room and perching in a chair next to my bed. I force a smile, waving an arm airily and replying quickly, so my voice won't quiver.

"I'm fine, I was just a little tired and that's all." He smiles, dropping several rolls of parchment on the bed. I lean over, my hands scrabbling to reach them.

"I thought I'd return the favour, notes for all your lessons." He states, and I stop reaching. I won't read them normally, there is no way I'll go anywhere near them if I'm ill. Transfiguration notes will probably be the death of me. There is a moment of silence whilst Remus watches me anxiously. I realise why he has come to visit me, and moodily grumble.

"I guess you want that advice." Remus nods enthusiastically and I sigh deeply. He isn't bothered about my wellbeing, he just wants my council and then he'll abandon and ignore me like all the other shallow boys in school. The slug is lovely whilst she's useful, but once there is nothing left to ask, she'll be left in the rain where she belongs.

"I guess you could always go for the usual romantic gestures: chocolates, flowers, love notes, singing gnomes..." I rattle off a list of stereotypical tokens of affection, my voice obviously uninterested. Remus frowns, interrupting my and saying fervently.

"But I don't want to go for the usual romantic gesture, I need something special, because she's special..." his voice trails and I fight to conceal the growing lump in my throat and the pain in my voice as I mumble.

"Right... well I'm not too sure how to help you there," I mutter. What's so special about whoever-she-is. The girls at Hogwarts aren't that great, with perhaps one or two exceptions. Bellatrix and Nacissia Black certainly aren't all they are said to be, I'm pretty certain that they wouldn't be so stunning if the masks of make-up were removed from their faces. Remus leans forward in his chair slightly, his eyes delving into mine, searching for a hint, a clue, anything to help him.

"What would you want then?" He inquires earnestly. What an embarrassing thing to ask me. I would clout anyone else, but because it's Remus, the secret love of my life who's asking this question, I openly spill my innermost desires.

"Um, well, I don't know really. I guess it would have to be raining, because I love the rain, but I guess you should go for the sun as most people prefer that." I stumble over the thoughts nervously, Remus hanging on every word.

"I've always liked wildflowers and weeds, so a bunch of those would be sweet. But pink and white roses or tulips are what most girls like, so have a bouquet of those ready. When you approach her, don't say anything, just lace your fingers into hers, nervous and awkward conversation is always embarrassing, so avoid discussing the weather or what you had for breakfast. Look meaningfully into her eyes and tell her that she's the only one-" and my voice cuts out, luckily Madam Pomfrey interrupts just at that moment.

"Stella, you have another visitor." She says briskly, Remus, mumbling his thanks to me, standing quickly and heading towards the door without her having to say another word. He smiles at me as he leaves his hazel eyes strangely radiant. Madam Pomfrey follows him, showing in another visitor and guiding him towards my bed. She races off, uneasy to spend large amounts of time with him. To be honest I don't blame her, if I hadn't collapsed earlier today I would have leapt out the nearest window to escape his icy company.

"I see you're feeling much better," Lucius states curtly. I fidget anxiously, nodding and fixing my eyes on my fingernails. Why is he visiting me? I thought I was just some vile mudblood who happened to whiff of cinnamon slightly. He stands by my bed, his body rigid, yet his tone irritatingly suave and relaxed. I wish I could wipe the smirk off his cold, and unfortunately for me, handsome features.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" He questions pointedly after a moment of silence. I squirm uncomfortably, whishing that I could magically transform myself into a slug, and sneakily slither away. Perhaps it's my pride kicking in, or the Slytherin verses Gryffindor competition pulsing in my veins, or maybe being cooped up in a hospital wing has put me in a bad mood, but I just can't bring myself to express gratitude to him. The room is quiet, I drum my nails on the bed sheet and Lucius lets out a controlled cough before muttering.

"I carried you all the way from the Great Hall to the hospital wing, and you're not going to thank me?" He is trying to sound nonchalant, but it's not working, I can still hear the edge of ice in his voice. I nervously shake my head, and I see the corner of Lucius's mouth twitch, I can't tell if it's turning into a smile or a frown, he is managing to show a surprising amount of control today. His pureblood facade is overcoming his temper.

"You are in my debt then," he states, the smirk growing on his frosty face. I'm in his debt? That really doesn't sound good. What will he have me do? Serve him tea on an hourly basis? Do his potions homework? Either would be stupid, I'm so clumsy I'd scald him with the tea and potions really aren't my forte. I'm lucky I have a potions wiz as a best friend, or I'd fail.

"Being in your debt, what does that entail?" I question anxiously, visions of myself grovelling at Lucius's feet flash through my mind in an instant. I should have just apologised, stupid stubborn streak. Also, I should stand up to him, but he is so intimidating I can't find an ounce of courage. He contemplates for a moment, brushing a strand of silvery-blond hair out of his eyes, wild with delight. He's really enjoying tormenting me. Lucius may be handsome, but his manipulative personality leaks through and tarnishes his appearance.

"Oh, I could make you do some terrible things." He muses, his smile utterly wicked. My stomach lurches and my heart stumbles warily, caution flashing in my mind. However, I ignore all the warnings, leaning closer and listening intently.

"But I won't. You will only have to do one simple thing for me. Come to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday." It's a statement, not a question. He believes that it's a privilege that a muggleborn could be even spoken to by the King of Slytherin; he's probably waiting for me to collapse with delight. I think I might do the opposite. His haughty grin is simply sickening.

"You will meet me in the wood near the shrieking shack at half past ten, don't be late." Orders, not requests and insults instead of compliments; that is what I receive from Lucius. Sometimes I think I understand people completely and at other times, everyone outside of my own personal sluggish world is completely perplexing. Lily with her vendetta, Peter with his marmalade and Lucius with his insults, they are all bizarre. Hogwarts is filled with lunatics. Lucius verifies my thoughts as he leaves the hospital wing. Completely shocked, I only manage to choke out one question before he leaves, to which he replies completely calmly.

"Why me?"

"You're beautiful." My heart practically falls out of my mouth and onto the blankets that cover me. Madam Pomfrey will have to clear up a horrible mess. She and Filtch will have to clear up a more terrible mess once Lily has discovered about my date, they'll have to peel me off the common room floor. Even worse will be facing the wrath of Narcissia Black; it is unspoken knowledge that Lucius is her plaything.

I watch him leave, cloudy thoughts storming in my mind. What should I do? I've been in love with Remus for nearly six years, but he doesn't feel the same way about me, and is utterly fixated with some girl who is more 'special' than me. The King of Slytherin, who is a really nasty piece of work, has demanded a date with me, and although it is against my better judgement, I can't seem to refuse him. He completely confuses me, his insults are somehow supposed to entice me, yet he just called me 'beautiful'. Is that an honest truth, or is he toying with my emotions and lying to me?

I chew on my lip, the different thoughts a tempest in my head. I've got to get a grip, before my world starts spiralling out of control.


	10. Forget Me Not

**A/N: Welcome to all the new readers! I really appreciate all your comments.**

The monster in my stomach growls irritably, it's being pestered by perpetual butterflies. Poor monster, in a strange way I'm quite fond of it, the butterflies are far more annoying. If it weren't for these pesky butterflies, I could be revelling in my woodland walk with Remus. However, the prospect of having to spend the whole day with Lucius Malfoy has put me in a decidedly anxious mood. In fact, everyone at Hogwarts has found our rendezvous quite perplexing. On hearing about it, Lily shrieked, Peter fell off his chair and Narcissia is still in a state of shock.

"So why are we going to the shrieking shack?" Remus asks as we trudge through the forests. Twigs crunch and leaves shatter under my feet, the overgrowth clinging to my ankles. I have to focus very carefully so I don't fall flat on my face. Remus kindly volunteered to accompany me to the woods near the shrieking shack, he overheard me whinging that Lily wouldn't come. I haven't actually told him why I wanted someone to come with me, as moral support against my scary Slytherin date. Surely he could have worked that out, its Hogwarts hot gossip of the week.

"I'm supposed to be meeting Luci-" but I stop as Remus finds a patch of wildflowers, scurrying over to them enthusiastically. Primroses peep out of the grass, Dandelions pompously perched next to them, pale blue forget-me-nots weaving in and out of the undergrowth. Remus plucks a string of forget-me-nots from the ground, twisting them through his fingers gently.

"They are beautiful," I mutter and Remus thrusts the flowers into my hand. His fingers are surprisingly rough to the touch, the skin worn and scarred.

"Who are you meeting?" Remus inquires, his voice has a sudden edge of sharpness, but his smile is still wide and warm. We are at the edge of the forest now, the shrieking shack leaning wonkily against the horizon. I settle down on a mottled bench, moss encrusting the old wood. Remus perches next to me, his expression curious.

"Lucius Malfoy," I mumble, Remus's smile barely falters. It would make me feel so much better if he was vaguely bothered, then I would at least have some hope that we could be together. He probably only came on this stroll with me to gain a few more romance tips; teenage boys are so exasperatingly predictable sometimes. At least Remus is more comfortable to be around than Lucius, I might just melt into a puddle of worry and self-doubt after spending a whole day with him.

"That's nice. It's going to rain soon," Remus states swiftly, changing the subject. It's pleasant to see that he's not lacking the typical Gryffindor disapproval. I nod, glancing up to the heavens. Dark clouds amble lazily across the sky and I feel slightly calmed by the thought of thunderstorms. If this date is a complete nightmare, at least I will able to wash the pain away in the rain.

"Stella," I hear Lucius's cold tone call out to me and I reluctantly clamber off the bench, Lucius's figure materialising in the distance. I can see he is clutching a large umbrella; I'll have to get rid of that somehow. I stroll off, momentarily turning back to wave to Remus. His smile is somewhat faded and melancholy shudders in his hazel eyes. Several droplets of rain splatter against the wooden bench, the beginning of a downpour.

I clutch the token of kindness, the wildflowers, desperately in my hand. They are already wilting.


	11. Imprisoned

My date with Lucius starts off awkward, but as time moves on, we grow more accustomed to each other. This however, does not make the experience any nicer. Lucius is downright cold and incredibly arrogant, more so than Sirius or James. I try to focus on the positive points of the day, he hasn't made one snub at my family or blood and he bought me a really delicious hot chocolate from a cute little cafe on the outskirts of Hogsmede. Even better, as we are ambling gently in the afternoon, the clouds that have been swiftly swelling throughout the afternoon finally burst; the drizzling rain heightening into torrents, and we are caught in the downpour.

We are striding up a large hill, past the forest and the shrieking shack. Lucius had said something about there being a beautiful view of the castle; to be honest I wasn't really listening. I doubt we'll be able to see anything through the thick grey clouds and cascading water. I sprint on ahead, the water dancing on the grass and reviving my tired emotions.

"Stella, what are you doing?" Lucius questions irritably. I turn back; he is slowly trying to catch up with me, his protruding umbrella shielding him from the droplets. I race back to him, stealing his umbrella and hurrying off again. His expression melts from dumbstruck to furious. I know exactly how to push his buttons and he loves it.

"Give me back my umbrella," he growls through gritted teeth and I let out a howl of laughter. He stands, utterly rigid, glowering determinedly. I think he's trying to freeze me with his icy frown, but it won't work, I don't care. I never care when I'm in the rain. Giving up on glaring, Lucius strides forward, trying to prise the umbrella out of my tiny hands. Every time he gets close enough to reach it, I leap away, spiralling out of his reach. Giggles bubble in my stomach and erupt, echoing throughout the empty landscape. The world seems so much brighter when the sun is masked by rainclouds; even Lucius is looking nicer than normal.

"You look beautiful," he calls out, stopping me dead in my tracks. Insults fail to stop me but one word of kindness and I'm immobilised. Lucius takes the opportunity whilst I am stunned to swipe the umbrella back, shielding us both from the thundering rain. He steps closer to me, his chin brushing against the top of my head. I cautiously glance up, only to see him meaningfully gazing into my eyes with a smirk so wide that it engulfs his handsome face. He leans closer, his breath disturbing the tendrils that were lashing against my cheekbones moments before. I stand severely, thoughts storming through my mind and screaming _'this is wrong! Move!'_ But I can't. As he gently presses his lips against mine, a strange mixture of regret and elation thunder throughout my body.

I feel strangely lifted. The poor lonely slug has finally had someone notice her and reach out to her, and no matter how horrible he may be she is willing to overlook his faults. It's a relief to know that I'm not completely undesirable and hideous. However, I know this is wrong. I am compromising my standards and values, ignoring his hatred and so called superiority. Feeling loved, or at least mildly cared for is good, but I know that Lucius, given the chance, would completely change me. I'm not rich enough for him, I'm not pureblood and I'm not perfect. Also, I am desperately and undeniably in love with someone else. Even though Remus is obviously uninterested, I can't stop my emotions or desperate longing for him.

I lace my fingers in Lucius's pale hair, his free arm winding around my waist. I can't escape from his strong grasp, or the ominous black umbrella. I know this is wrong, the rain should be washing away any regrets and anxiety, but I am trapped, shielded, imprisoned.


	12. Tempest of Tears

My jumper spills over my skirt and swamps my hands; masking my petite figure and making me resemble a sack of potatoes. This was a new jumper, yesterday evening it fitted me perfectly. There is no doubt in thinking that Lily Evans has had her vengeance. She shouldn't even technically be seeking revenge; I don't have to tell her everything I do, including who I've kissed.

I collapse on the sofa in the common room next to James Potter. His miserable mood seems to match mine equally, and for a moment we sit in sullen silence. James stares off at a point in the distance, his expression evidently drained and tiresome. I sigh, turning to him and asking.

"What's wrong?" James glances at me, a weary grin spreading across his face. He ruffles his jet hair for a moment, before replying.

"Lily, as usual," he mumbles, attempting and failing to be jokey. I gently pat his shoulder, and his eyes dart back to the point in the distance. I tilt my head so I can see the room from the same position as James, following his train of sight to the girls' dormitory; Lily must be lurking there.

"Do you think she'll ever say yes?" He inquires, his expression downtrodden yet hopeful. Of course she will, I doubt any woman will be able to withstand the amount of adoration that Lily has received without harbouring some small affection for the person that constantly compliments them. I smile warmly, nodding gently, my wavy tendrils brushing against my cheeks.

"Lily's terrible with affection and commitment, but she will eventually, I think." I reply gently, and James beams broadly, just as two figures enter the common room. I can only just see their silhouettes out of the corner of my eye, but I am distracted as James begins to ask me questions.

"So what's up with you?" He asks surprisingly tentatively, it must be obvious that I'm in a bad mood. I let out a reluctant sigh, as a peal of high-pitched giggles erupts from the other side of the room.

"Lily," I mutter, rolling my eyes as another shriek of joy echoes across the common room. Some people are so disrespectful, they may be happy but they still shouldn't rub our noses in it, James and I can't help it if we're both in foul moods today. James snickers, surveying whoever is making the loud noise with amused eyes, before responding.

"The incident at dinner?" James questions, his eyebrows stretching to the top of his forehead. I can't tell if he is grinning broadly reminiscing Lily's little episode at dinner tonight, which was very entertaining for spectators, or if he is eagerly watching the girl who is making a racket.

"Yes, but she's already had her revenge, so I'm sure she'll be fine," I reassure myself and James. I 'accidentally' forgot to tell Lily that I kissed Lucius Malfoy on our date, but somehow she discovered the truth, and waited till the entire school was there to witness it. She shrieked like a banshee, screaming 'We're supposed to be best friends, I tell you everything and yet you're always hiding stuff! How could you kiss someone and not tell me? Lucius Malfoy! Stella!' Then, she discarded her dinner all over Peter's lap and stormed out of the hall, highly tempestuous. My cheeks flushed so red that I was worried that Peter would mistake me for a stray portion of the spaghetti bolognaise that had landed on his lap. He pretended to clean it off, but everyone knows he was shovelling it into his greedy chops when he thought people weren't looking.

"I just need a hug," I mumble, and James notices his cue to wrap a friendly arm around my shoulders. Another giggle thunders across the room and I wriggle out of James's arms to glower at whoever is making the horrible noise. The slug woman does not like her cuddles to be interrupted by boisterous blissful people. However, as I catch sight of the two figures, my stomach acid starts to churn; jealousy seeping into my brain and making me feel sick.

Remus is slumped on an armchair, his shirt partially undone and his mousey hair somewhat dishevelled. Sprawled across his lap is a very pretty fifth year girl with straight blond hair and curves that I would kill for. She grips his tie tightly, planting kisses on his cheeks, forehead, nose, lips. I feel my hands start to tremble, so I grip the sofa to stop myself from shaking and screaming. I turn back to James, desperately trying to distract myself from the burning rage in my gut.

"Thank you for telling Remus I was perceptive and recommending him to me for advice," I mutter, straining to keep my voice controlled. At least my romance tips were useful, even if he's not using them on me. James frowns, a puzzled expression flashing across his face.

"I didn't tell him either of those things..." James states, his voice trailing off, bewildered. I blink pointedly, turning to Remus and the girl, fighting the desire to shave her flowing tendrils off whilst in my mind running through the conversation that Remus and I had.

"He asked me how he should ask out girls, as there was someone really special and he wanted to make an effort for her... and he definitely said that you had recommended me," I say, growing more curious and confused.

"Nope, I never said anything to him about that. He doesn't need advice with girls, we've learned enough off Sirius. Besides, that girl has been pleading to go out with him for several weeks now." I gawp, surveying the couple. Why would he ask me something like that if knows exactly how to act already? The girl gnaws on his bottom lip playfully, Remus appearing surprisingly uninterested. His eyes dart to mine, lingering over my face for a moment, melancholy shuddering through his irises. I have to remind myself to breathe as his sadness shocks me.

I close my eyes, searching deep in my soul for an ounce of strength. I need it to stop the tempest of tears stinging my eyes.


	13. Endless Sun

"Hello," a deep, suave voice murmurs, and I silently curse. Today has been a terrible day. It is blisteringly warm, the sun baking the surroundings and putting the majority of the inhabitants of Hogwarts in a jubilant mood. I have seen Remus and his little companion wherever I have gone; I'm pretty convinced that they are following me. Now, my vile boyfriend is pestering me. I sigh and shuffle along slightly, so Lucius can perch on the wall next to me. I have been sitting here for goodness knows how long; it's the only place where I can find some shade to hide from the sun.

"What's wrong?" He questions uninterestedly. I find it quite upsetting that my boyfriend does not actually care in the slightest how I feel, but the love of my life is polite and listens intently to absolutely anyone. Unfortunately, Remus clearly isn't romantically attached to me and Lucius is the only person who even vaguely feels for me in that way. At least someone loves me, even if it isn't necessarily who I want to love me, it's better than nothing.

"It's sunny," I grumble, my arms folded across my chest. A smirk forces its way onto Lucius's handsome face, and he takes my arms, gently unfolding them. He leans closer, his breath disrupting my messy tendrils.

"I know what will make you feel better," he whispers in my ear, his voice tinged with wildness. He lets go of one of my wrists, curving his arm around my back and pushing me towards him. I try to wriggle out of his grip, my fists clenched and my expression tiresome.

"No Lucius," I mutter, but I can't break away. He is too strong, and the more I fight the stronger his grip becomes until I am trapped in an unbreakable embrace. His focus pierces me and although he is smirking, rage glistens in his eyes. I wince as he shoves me into the sunlight, the warmth blistering my flesh and scalding my skin. He presses my body against his and I gasp loudly as the glare of light from the sun illuminates the fury in his irises. His voice is harsh and cold as he whispers in my ear, his breath short and scorching against my neck.

"You don't say no to me." He crushes his lips against mine and realisation dawns on me. Lucius doesn't love me; my hopes and feelings are inconsequential to him. I'm just an object, a plaything that he can discard in the dirt when he is bored. I'm nothing to him, he only chose me because he knew I wouldn't fight back, and this sudden outburst is purely to destroy any rebellious and unwanted behaviour. Lucius knows that the slug will never defend herself, and there is no one that would battle for her or protect her either. The beautiful doe would have stags to rescue her, but there is no one for me. I am alone, unwanted and controlled by a desperate desire to be loved.

So I stop fighting Lucius, wrapping my arms around his neck and succumbing to his force. I abandon struggling, the sunlight weakening my fragile frame and taunting my eyes. The heat scalds, while my body silently screams surrender. I long for tempests and storms to stop the smouldering warmth. I want to be cold and numb, so I can't feel the agonising pain. But there is no release, no freedom and no love. I am consumed by deceit and demoralisation, burning in the endless sun.


	14. Summer Storms

The atmosphere at Hogwarts changes as swiftly as the weather. I enter the Gryffindor common room to discover that all the light-hearted students that were up until recently basking in summer fun are now a subdued and tearful wreck. Huddles of students group around whispering anxiously, whilst others wrap arms around companions, comforting the sorrowful. Sirius is pacing the room, his handsome face tort with worry. Peter squirms in his chair awkwardly, his beady eyes unsure of where to look. James has an arm wrapped a very anxious looking Lily, and is clearly attempting to reassure her. She gnaws on her fingers repetitively, her eyes constantly darting to a copy of the daily prophet that several fifth years are studying. Remus lounges on the rug by the fire, gazing into the flames with a fixed expression of concern, lost in his thoughts. I amble across the room, perching on the arm of the sofa, tilting my face so I can catch sight of the headline of the paper. A wave of shock passes through me as I read the words:

DEATH EATERS ATTACK MUGGLES. AT LEAST FIFTY CASUALTIES. LIST OF THE DECEASED WITHIN.

"Lily, are your family ok?" I question, trying to push out of my mind the horrific images of my mother, my father and my brothers. My stomach acid churns and I can feel my hands start to tremble, but I manage to contain my emotions. Lily blinks, turning to me slowly, her eyes still fixed on the newspaper.

"I don't know," she mutters, her voice quaking with each word. James leans over so he is facing me, his arm still rested around Lily's shoulders in a comforting manner. His voice is hushed as he explains the situation in the common room.

"There is only one newspaper, so people are sharing. We decided to go with age, so we're hopefully next. So far no one has lost any family members, although one of the second years was friends with one of the... victims." He struggles to verbalise the last word, his strong facade faltering with each second. I can tell that he is trying to be brave to help Lily, but sometimes even us noble Gryffindors struggle.

"Finished," one of the fifth years calls to the room, and I leap off the sofa, urgent to check that my family is safe. I dart across the room, my wild hair billowing out behind me as I run. The slug can certainly be agile when she needs to be. I snatch the paper out of the fifth year's hands, completely ignoring the appalled look on his face as I leaf through the pages to find the list. The list of deceased is sorted into surnames and is in alphabetical order, so it is easy for me to check my family. 'Ashby' isn't visible at all on the list, and I let out a short sigh of relief before hunting for my mother's maiden name, 'Foster.' However two names catch my eye as I am scanning down the list, and I am overcome with shock.

Evans, Michael Thomas

Evans, Rosemary Claire

I want to shred the newspaper into tiny pieces, or throw it into the fire, or perhaps I could disguise it as marmalade and feed it to Peter. But I can't move; my limbs have locked into a strange slug defence mechanism. Lily clambers off the sofa, curious by my state of shock. I don't want her to see the newspaper, yet I can't move away or hide it, and I have lost all the strength in my body to tear it in two. Lily rests her head on my shoulder, reading the names. I close my eyes and wait for the chaos to start.

The sorrow builds slowly, like a fog. Gradually, the atmosphere changes so all the faces in the common room are fixed on Lily and me. Minutes fade past, and I begin to feel droplets of water trickle onto my neck, dampening my oversized jumper. It isn't comforting like rain, as it's warm and the air is tinged with a bitter aftertaste. The flames flickering in the corner heat the room till the base of my throat is burning and gasping for cool oxygen. Claustrophobia kicks in and my legs manage to mobilise. I just want to run away.

I'm about halfway across the common room, escaping from the sadness, when something stops me in my tracks; a sort of gurgled choke that sounds remarkably like 'Stella'. I turn back, and Lily's arm is outstretched; a desperate display of need. Her fiery tendrils hang in front of her face, hiding her distraught expression. Yet through the curtain of fire, I can still make out the piercing emeralds that leak liquid like a storm.

Guilt floods me, and I hurry back, wrapping my arms around Lily in a desperate attempt to comfort her. Silence lingers in the atmosphere, enhanced by the smothering and searing warmth. There is a faint hiss, and out of the corner of my eye I see Remus dousing out the fire with a simple enchantment. A few faint drums on the window suggest that there will be some showers tonight. I deeply wish to be able to go out in the downpour, but I know that Lily needs me to help her. I have to be a good friend, and sometimes that means sacrificing my own happiness for the sake of others. I need to be brave, for the welfare of my best friend, even if it means missing the soothing rain.

Some things are far more important than summer storms.


	15. Reflections

The days after the muggle attack seemed strangely surreal, like time had paused and the entire of Hogwarts was trapped in a state of flux. Lily spent days sobbing her eyes out, hysterical from grief. Tempests raged in the Gryffindor tower, screams echoing and climaxing that could deafen a banshee. Then, after a week she miraculously stopped. It was bizarre, instead of sobbing and wailing, she threw herself into her studies and spent most of her spare time in the library. When I asked her what brought about this sudden change, she told me that she wanted to show all who believed that muggleborns were less capable and worthy that they are actually equal to all the purebloods. Her plan was to become the next head girl of Hogwarts, demonstrating the high ability of muggleborns. And so, Lily began her quest, and was utterly consumed with this goal, leaving me completely alone.

Lucius also disappeared from my life relatively rapidly, barely acknowledging my presence at mealtimes or around the school. It was strange though, I was expecting an over-the-top, harsh and public break-up, but it never happened. He kind of just faded away, like mist after rainfall, lingering in the atmosphere for a fleeting moment before vanishing into nothingness, like it was never there.

It's funny how you can make so many sacrifices for people, and then as soon as they don't need you any more, you are abandoned. I spent hours comforting Lily, yet she has never thanked me once and I devoted my heart to Lucius, but he simply forgets me. The slug deluded herself into believing that people actually need her, but once the rain has gone, the slug must crawl under the rock where she belongs, unwanted and unloved. After all, that is where the slug belongs, trapped in the darkness and only allowed to see the world when it rains.

There was only one person that tried to encourage the slug out of her isolated darkness. He was an outsider too, trapped between societies, never knowing where to belong. He understood the slug, and was not perturbed by her unappealing and reclusive nature. However, he was also wild, adored and stunning. It was a mystery why he wanted to hang around with me, out of all the girls in Hogwarts, and one lazy summer afternoon, I decided to question him.

"Sirius, why are you spending all this time with me?" I ask, as we lounged out on the grass in warm glow. The water rippled gently in the lake, and spirals were erupting and fading as Sirius threw stones, breaking the water's glassy surface. I weave a daisy chain through my fingers as Sirius lets out a gentle laugh.

"Well, you'd probably freak out if I told you," Sirius mumbles with a chuckle. I stretch out an arm, wriggling so the sunlight doesn't scald my eyes.

"I'm not prone to freaking out Sirius, you know that." I say cheerfully, draping the daisy chain over my messy tendrils. Sirius sighs, and pats my arm gently.

"I know that, sorry." He states quietly, with a small smirk. "Well there are a few reasons really. For a start, I like you." I blink, and sit upright, the daisy chain dropping to the floor. Sirius laughs, scooping the chain off the floor and draping it in his dark locks so it looks like a crown.

"Don't look so surprised, you're a lovely person. Besides, we're quite similar." I blink, relatively shocked, and before I can question him, he continues.

"Also, we think that you need a bit of protection at the moment, what with all these problems with muggleborns and attacks. You technically haven't broken up with Lucius yet, and I wouldn't be surprised if Narcissia decided to finish you relationship by another means." I feel my jaw drop as he states this, and I hastily endeavour to close it. He smiles at me, his handsome and chiselled features more magnificent in the bright light. There is a moment of silence, whilst I attempt to calculate all that Sirius has said, when I suddenly notice something strange.

"Sirius, you said 'we think you need protection', who else thinks that I need to be looked after?" Sirius's smile falters for a moment, but it quickly re-appears as he replies.

"No one else thinks that, I wasn't thinking, I meant 'I think that you need some protection.'" Sirius is a difficult person to understand, he is the master of deception. However, something in the pit of my stomach tells me that he is lying, but it is so difficult to tell, I decide not to question him further on that point.

"How are we similar?" I ask, and Sirius flashes a broad pearly grin. It is at moments like these that I understand why girls are susceptible to his charm. However, I am strangely immune. Perhaps it is because my heart has always belonged to someone else, or that it's been broken so many times that I can't salvage enough to give it away again.

"We're both brave, charismatic, and we break too many hearts." I snort, lounging onto the floor with my arms cradling my head and my eyes gently closed. The sunlight is blocked and my vision is stopped, so the world appears nonexistent and dark. Sirius's voice thunders through the emptiness of my mind.

"Stella, you are something special and you're the only person that hasn't realised it. You need to open your eyes to the truth." Sirius states, his tone stronger and more adamant than before. I feel his hand grab mine, and he forcefully leads me forward so I am crawling. I can feel the soft grass brushing against my knees as I crawl, my eyes still tightly shut.

"Open your eyes," Sirius orders, and I gradually lift my eyelids. In front of me is the lake, and we are leaning over so the water shimmers like a giant mirror. Sirius points at the water and my irises focus on the figure that is hovering at the water's edge. She is like a porcelain doll, with defined cheekbones and precise features. Her lips are formed in a perfect pout, the corners of her mouth pulled up slightly in curiosity. She has two large wide eyes, that are strange combination of pale grey and deep blue, and they are staring with fixed wonder. Waves of gold and hazel frame her petite figure, finishing just below her shoulders in delicate curls. One of her tiny hands is gripping the water's edge whilst the other is still being clasped by the handsome boy beside her. I tilt my head slightly sideways, and the girl does the same. I frown, and several creases form in the middle of her brow, every movement mirroring mine precisely.

"Don't you see?" Sirius asks, and I hesitate before answering, my eyes still fixed on my reflection. The slug has spent so much time in the darkness; she hasn't seen the light or the truth. The slug has hidden herself for so long she hasn't had time to realise that she has changed and transformed into something far more beautiful. The slug is no longer a slug; in fact she may never have been a slug in the first place. But when you believe something for so long, it can become so convincing that change is almost impossible. I hadn't seen the reality, only the rain.


	16. Together We Will Burn

"Sirius?"

"Stella?"

"What would you say if I told you I love you?"

"I'd say you were lying."

"Good puppy," I giggle, and Sirius rolls his eyes. Together, we are perched on two wobbly bar stools, whilst supping on some rather potent firewhisky. Sirius has chatted up the barmaid, as usual, and has managed to talk her into giving us free top-ups, as well as a flask of butterbeer for the walk back to Hogwarts. The Three Broomsticks is packed with Hogwarts students, and the air is warm and stuffy, steaming up the thick window panes. Rain patters gently against the glass, and I long to go outside for a long refreshing stroll, but I know that if I left Sirius, he would have to begin work on his potions essay, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Besides, I have more important issues to face. Perhaps it is the firewhisky giving me the nerve, but I have decided that I am going to tell Sirius about my feelings for Remus. Sirius is both a good friend of mine, and of Remus, so he could probably tell me if there is any hope.

"What about if I told you I love Peter?"

"I'd probably have to send you to the Hospital Wing- you'd either be blind or severely hexed." I can't help but snort into my firewisky as I laugh and in doing so, spray Sirius with spittle. He yelps, before chuckling loudly. I'm lucky it wasn't someone like Lily, she'd probably feed all my socks to a House Elf as revenge.

"Thanks for that Stella- really charming," what does he expect? I am a slug, not exactly the most elegant of all creatures.

"Oh shut up Sirius. And what about James, if I loved him what would you think?" Sirius blinks for a moment, his face suddenly flitting from a smile to a frown.

"You'd be stupid to even think about it Stella. You know he's only got eyes for Lily." Sirius looks down at his glass, running his finger along the brim so a gentle humming sound fills the air.

"Lily is so loved," I whisper, trying and failing to hide the envy in my voice. Sluggy Stella may have had creepy Lucius chasing after her for a brief period of time, but now I never seem to see him. In fact, I don't think he has been in Hogwarts at all recently, called away on 'important family business' or something.

"You don't even know the half of it," Sirius interrupts coldly, before gulping down the last of his firewhisky. If he drinks anymore of the stuff, I might have to carry him back to Hogwarts. I don't even want to think about him trying to get past the Fat Lady, I can't say 'droopy dribbled dogwood' normally so I don't think either of us will be able to say it now we are filled with firewisky. Looks like I'll be spending the evening sleeping in Filtch's cleaning cupboard. I managed to lock myself in there once before, and apart from the pungent smell of Mrs Norris' cat breath, it isn't too uncomfortable.

"What do you mean?" Sirius sighs, gazing up at the foggy window as if he is looking into another world.

"I just… don't worry. It is nothing. Anyway Stella, what about the person you're actually supposed to love?" I gulp. How does he know about Remus? I guess I'm not that subtle, whenever Remus is anywhere near me I have a mini panic-attack.

"I don't know who you are talking about," I lie through my teeth. I've obviously not drank enough firewhisky to be honest yet. That big flask of butterbeer seems like a good idea now, sleeping in dormitories is overrated and Mrs Norris will be glad of my company. In fact, I'm sure she'd make a good pillow, a warm, fuzzy meowing pillow.

"Your boyfriend Stella? Lucius Malfoy?" Why did Sirius have to mention him? I was having such a lovely daydream about Mrs Norris having little pillow shaped kittens.

"I'm not sure we're together anymore. I haven't even spoken to him in months," I mumble awkwardly. The front door slams loudly, and I jump so violently that I fall off my chair and onto the floor. Sirius lets out a large guffaw of laughter, and makes no effort to help me up. I look like an overturned turtle, lying on the floor, red faced and my spindly legs flailing about in the air. I close my eyes and sigh, then suddenly someone taps me on the nose.

"Sirius, I'm not moving. If I sit back down, I'll just fall off my chair again!" It is probably safer if I stay on the floor.

"I'm not Sirius. Get up Stella," a voice snaps like icicles shattering. I sit up with a start, the blood rushing to my head, making the world spin. I can't open my eyes, for fear of feeling sick, but I can still recognise the cold, dark voice. A hand grabs my wrist, and lifts me up, brutally. I let out a squeak, clamping my eyes shut tighter. Then I am pulled away, stumbling after the voice, trying desperately to keep up so I am not dragged along on the floor. The Three Broomsticks suddenly goes silent, and I open my eyes just in time to see Sirius throw his firewhisky glass towards my captor.

It is too late, the door slams and I hear the glass shatter against the aged oak. As I step into the night air, the breeze gnaws at the tips of my fingers and my lips. The stars glare from their velvet blanket, glistening like teardrops through the darkness. I don't try to fight the man dragging me away from the safety of the Three Broomsticks, for I know that he will find me again. Besides, my arms are no stronger than a quill.

"I promise you'll be safe Stella." The figure is cloaked from head to toe, with a bronzed mask covering his facial features. He increases his pace to a run, and I follow, my heart thundering against my chest like raindrops against steel. I know that I am not safe, as I have never felt safe with him. Our relationship was not one of friendship, or affection, but one of inferno. He threw me towards all that I hated, towards the endless sun that scorched and blistered and illuminated all that I hated about myself. I needed the rain to soothe me, but instead I was given a furnace.

It is Lucius Malfoy practically dragging me through Hogsmede and towards the woods, and I know that together we will burn.


	17. The Darkness

The branches beneath my feet crackle like wildfire, as embers of dead leaves stir about the floor. Above me, a canopy of intertwined twigs masks an almost full moon. I stagger behind Lucius Malfoy, desperately trying to keep up with his great strides. When I was little, I used to try to keep up with my father's great strides. We would visit the beach and I would follow his footprints, tracing his path in the sand. I barely think of my family whilst I am at Hogwarts, but I guess when confronted with danger and uncertainty, I just want the reassurance of my father's arms. I should never have been put in Gryffindor, when terror rears its ugly head, I whimper like a little child.

"Get down," Lucius whispers, stopping suddenly and gripping my shoulders. His hands are cold and hard, like steel.

"Why am I here?" I stutter through chattering jaws.

"You're not safe. You are muggleborn and they are after your family, and you." He says, without any sympathy, as if it were simply inevitable.

"My family…" I can already feel something swelling in the pit of my stomach, choking my throat and forcing my eyes to well up.

"I can't do anything to save them, but if you pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord you will be spared," I can't control myself anymore, and I let out a howl worse than a banshee.

"Stella, quiet! I'm only doing this because… because I love you, alright?" This fact simply makes me wail even more. Lucius removes his mask, and almost shamefully, he kisses me, before pointing his wand against my shoulder.

"Silencio," and all at once I feel the breath being sucked out of my lungs, and I cannot make a noise, not a squeak. The woods ring with the silence, and no birds sing. Then there is the noise coming from a distance, and several cloaked figures appear from out of the darkness.

"The girl had better be here," I recognise the first figure to be Bellatrix Black.

"She is here, and ready," he grunts with contempt.

"Lucius, I still don't know why you are risking this. She's a mudblood," Narcissa snaps from behind Bellatrix. Their masks cover their faces, but I can tell that underneath they are both sneering with disgust, as if they have smelled something putrid.

"I'm going to call him," Lucius mutters, pulling up his sleeve to reveal a huge writhing snake, protruding from a skull. He jabs his wand into his arm, and lets out a small cry. Figures materialise out of nothingness, like the spark, just before a flame appears on the end of a matchstick, all blue and burning. They form a circle around us, cloaked, their faces lowered and covered with bronze masks. Then finally, a slender cloaked figure appears in the centre, just in front of Lucius. Everything suddenly seems colder and darker than it was before, as if the whole world had suddenly stopped breathing for a moment.

"What have you called me for?" The voice grates against the walls of my mind.

"My Lord, you have a new follower who wishes to join us, Stella Ashby" Lucius says, pointing at me.

"Lucius, why would you bring me such filth? I should just kill you both now," I try to let out a scream, but I'm still hexed and I can't make a sound.

"My Lord, she is greatly skilled in divination," I wouldn't call myself greatly skilled. I got an O in my owls, but all I ever seem to do in divination class is nap, drink tea and then pretend that the leaves in the bottom of my cup are a picture. Once I predicted that James would give Lily an enchanted tap-dancing toad for Valentine's Day, but I've never done any better than that.

"Let me see her," the voice rasps like smoke. The figure turns, and grabs my cheeks, tilting my head to the sky. I meet his eyes, and all I can see is horror, and darkness, and blood.

"Pretty little thing. It will be a shame to kill her," he mutters with a smile. I feel sick.

"Please, my Lord. She will be useful," Lucius almost whimpers in desperation. The figure keeps staring into my eyes, and I stare back. The more I look, the more frightening he becomes. In his eyes I can see all that has happened, and all he has done, and it is awful, truly awful. Like flashes, I can see Lily's family, and other muggles, all falling.

"I think… I think I may be able to use her. Give me your arm girl," he snaps, and Lucius grabs my arm. The figure points his wand at my arm, and a searing pain swells in my arm, like everything that I had just seen in his eyes was there, seeping into my body. All the hatred, all the fear, all the pain pouring into my veins and through my skin.

Then everything goes black.

Hours later, I am woken by several drops of rain falling on my face. All the people are gone, even Lucius. My arm is throbbing with pain, and I roll back my sleeve to see the same snake and skull, blotchy and black on my slender arm. I let out a howl of pain, and as I do so, another howl, almost inhuman, echoes through the trees. A huge black dog pads its way over to me, and nuzzles at my arm, sniffing at the horrific scar. I sit with the strange dog, and I let my eyes pour, like beaded raindrops falling against my skin.


	18. Sparrows and Secrets

Lily has discovered knitting. She decided that she needed something to calm her and to stop her from leashing odd vendettas on people. I think she might have decided that it was a step too far to transfigure James's glasses into a tarantula whilst he was still wearing them, all for asking to borrow a quill. The change has certainly been noticeable, she seems to have aged at least fifty years, and with that she has accumulated the patience of a saint, and the wisdom of an oracle. She looks particularly holy as I enter the common room on a grey Sunday afternoon, curled up with her red hair glowing against the firelight. In front of her, lays what looks like a giant purple teacosy, but on closer inspection it appears to be a poncho.

"Lils, who is that for?" I ask, shuffling towards her as my huge sleeves flap at my sides. Lily's vendetta was useful in that respect, her jumper stretching charm has meant that I don't need to worry at all about hiding my dark mark.

"It's for James. I feel bad about the whole spider incident, although I do feel he overreacted a bit," Lily mumbles, wrinkling her nose.

"Lily, you can't say that, the tarantula was bigger than his head! And besides, I really don't think James is the poncho wearing type," I giggle and Lily flashes me a look of warning, her jade eyes glinting. Knitting hasn't cured her completely.

"It's not a poncho! Look, it's got sleeves," she states indignantly, pointing at what looks like one giant tassel.

"Anyway, I've been meaning to ask you something Stella," Lily mutters, turning back to her knitting.

"As long as it isn't about knitting patterns," I chuckle, and Lily rolls her eyes.

"It's Severus. I think I might have been a bit too harsh with him. I'm thinking about starting to talk to him again, you know, as we leave school next year. I don't want to leave on a bad note and…"

"Lily you can't talk to him," I interrupt, and Lily blinks. I check that the common room is empty before continuing.

"He is a death eater Lily, you don't want to get mixed up with them," I am such a hypocrite. I'm about as mixed up with dark wizards as you can be without crucio-ing a few innocents. But I don't care, it might be too late for me, but I can still protect Lily.

"Stella, you don't know that for sure," she hisses, her eyes welling up. One lone tear dribbles down her cheekbone, glistening like a diamond.

"I do know Lily. Don't ask me how, but I do." There is silence for a moment, as Lily wipes the tear from her cheek onto the mangled woolly mess.

"Stella, has Lucius told you this?" Lily askes, her head lowered.

"No Lily, he hasn't. I don't want to get involved with that sort of thing." Lies, lies lies. I don't know what it is, perhaps it's the snake on my wrist burning into my blood, but I don't feel like myself anymore.

"It just seemed like…" Lily's voice trails off into the distance, like wind flitting through branches. She twists one of the knitting needles in-between he fingers, and I see the colour change to a mottled brown. Then, suddenly, it sprouts wings, and before my eyes it has transformed into a sparrow. It hops on her finger, before launching itself into the air. It flutters around the common room for a few moments, and then it soars headfirst into the fireplace. The flames crackle and devour the creature, and an overwhelming sense of fear suddenly fills me.

"I just wish we were all free from this," Lily whispers. She doesn't realise how free she is.


End file.
